Author: judeknight

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Spotlight on “My Gift to You” in Love’s Perilous Road

My Gift to You

By Mary Lancaster

A rocky marriage and too many secrets…

The young Marchioness of Corey comes from a family of expensive rakehells. The world knows she married the marquis for his money – a conclusion Corey reached the day after their wedding.

Only, it was never true…

Attending the Normanton House party, each hopes for happiness. Only her wretched family gets in the way again, as does the local highwayman, and it seems their secret love is perpetually doomed… 

Buy now in Love’s Perilous Road: https://books2read.com/u/mqx0W6

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An Excerpt from My Gift to You

Gaby enjoyed the journey to Normanton more than she had enjoyed anything since her wedding night. They talked of his Bill, of his parliamentary allies and enemies, and how to change the minds of the latter. The discussion was not without humor and their laughter led them down lighter roads. 

Their al fresco breakfast brought them physically closer. Her heart leapt foolishly at every accidental touch, and she did not move away. Neither did he. Gaby was enchanted, for that secret smile was back in his eyes. She loved his dry, subtle humor that was rarely unkind. During their brief courtship between betrothal and marriage, this had been a revelation to her who had grown among loud, jeering people focused entirely on their own pleasure.

Once, when they were discussing the entertainments likely to be on offer at the party, she said lightly, “The rubies are even more beautiful than I expected. Thank you for trusting me with the family treasure.”

He looked for the jest, of course, and she didn’t blame him. She had used flippancy as protective armor too often. 

“I mean it,” she said ruefully.

“They’re more than family treasure. They are my gift to you.”

Pleasure brought a flush to her face. Impulsively, she touched her cheek to his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then, afraid he would dislike such a demonstration, she straightened. “Should I save them for the grand ball?” she wondered. “Or tease the company with a few pieces beforehand?”

“Whatever amuses you.”

She was actually sorry to arrive at Normanton House, a large and gracious property, but the excitement stayed with her. She could swear this new friendliness was not mere politeness on his part. He did seem to genuinely like her still.

Which begged the question, why had he drawn away from her after that first night? Had she disappointed him so badly in bed? Or in other ways?

It doesn’t matter, as long as we are truly together now…

They arrived late in the afternoon, and both host and hostess greeted them warmly.

“Welcome to Normanton House,” Lady Sommerville cried. “I quite feel you have handed us the coup of the year by your presence.”

“I trust your journey was unremarkable?” Sir Peter added. “We’ve had bother with a highwayman on the Brighton roads.”

“Really?” Gaby was almost disappointed to have been spared such excitement until she realized that such a miscreant would almost certainly have stolen the Corey rubies. And the pearls.

“I expect your outriders made him think twice,” Sir Peter said with approval. 

“Come, I’ll show to your rooms,” Lady Sommerville said. “Where you may rest in comfort before tea, when you will meet all our other guests. I do hope you will be comfortable…”

Gaby had been sure that in a house so full of guests, she and her husband would share a bedchamber. But she had reckoned without their rank. The marquis and marchioness were given their own rooms, each with a sitting room.

Just like at home, they had no need ever to meet except in company.

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Stolen Kisses in Love’s Perilous Road

STOLEN KISSES by Cerise DeLand

When Lance Winters first kissed Emma Tomkins pretending to be a highwayman years ago, she was ruined. 

But things have changed. Now she has a fortune—and she’s determined to live as she wishes. Alone.

As a captain in the Army, Lancelot Winters never had the means to claim Emma as his wife. But he vowed one day he would return for her.

Now the war is over. With a title and an estate, he plans to make her laugh again. And love him again.

So he disguises himself as a highwayman and tracks Emma in her carriage. Then he grabs her off the coach—and in front of other passengers, he kisses her.

Oh, yes. She remembers his lips. His rakish charm. But he ruined her once and she’s determined it won’t happen again.

But the man is persistent, showing up to court her everywhere! Suddenly, Lance can’t live without her. And she can’t imagine marrying anyone else.

Their biggest problem?

A Bow Street Runner comes looking for the highwayman who troubles the countryside.

An Excerpt from Stolen Kisses

Lance cocked an ear. A coachman’s crack of whip and the grinding of wheels signaled his darling came near in her coach to Brighton.

“I saw you climb in this morning,” he murmured to himself. “I doubt you’ve stayed in Crowley.”

He had seen her and her cousin Diana climb down for a respite at the carriage inn when the coach stopped. But he had not waited for Emma or Diana to get back inside. He’d spurred his horse on to the bend in the road. Here he had waited patiently to demonstrate to his beloved that time had not destroyed his love of her. And that the ton could go hang by their own silly rules.

He was here, standing and delivering like a true highwayman that love and laughter went hand in hand—and he’d give it to her from this day forward.

From his vantage point, he saw the dust cloud billow above the hedgerow—and at once, there was the coach, fast on approach.

He put up his half mask and brandished his wooden pistol. Then he charged forward.

Headed straight for the carriage, he halted a hundred yards or so from view and encouraged his horse to paw the air. He’d even asked the groom where he’d rented the horse if the animal could and would do that on command. He did now….and Lance grinned at the image he must make. A black horse, large and rearing, upon which sat a large man in black, his face half concealed by his black scarf.

“Halt! Halt, I say!” He shouted as the coachman slowed his horses and came to an idle, then stopped.

The fellow stood in the box. “What ho, sir? Ye don’t want to hurt us, nay!”

“Order your passengers out.”

The man sank to his seat. “No!”

“I say…” Lance waved his replica of a fine pistol. “Tell them to come out.”

The man turned and yelled towards the cab.

In the window, Lance saw Emma’s face. At first she was bewildered, then frightened. But now, as the coachman left his perch and jumped down to open the door, she met Lance’s gaze and her fear went to shock, then to recognition.

She took the coachman’s hand, climbed down and approached Lance. “Why do this?”

He met her and let his horse dance around her. “You know why.”

“No. I am at a loss.”

“How many in the carriage?” He knew she’d be concerned about gossip of this, but in Crawley he’d seen the other passenger. The woman was young, pretty—and already tipsy when she joined Emma and Diana in the coach.

“Only three,” shouted Diana from the window. “My cousin, me and Miss Frobisher, Mister Highwayman, sir. And …um…sir? Miss Frobisher is very frightened.” But by the grin spreading across Diana’s glowing features, Lance could tell the girl enjoying this tremendously.

“Tell Miss Frobisher, she need fear no one.” He walked his horse nearer Emma. “Certainly not me,” he crooned as he slid to his feet, removed his mask and took Emma in his arms to put his lips to hers.

Willing, pliant in his embrace, she allowed him his kiss. Long and soft, intrusive at the end, but quickly satisfying, his capture of her mouth was just as he had hoped.

“Why?” she asked him, dazed, as he pulled away.

“Because you need surprise and laughter.”

Her arms, tight around his neck, she sank her fingers into the wealth of his silky hair at his nape. “Why could you not wait and do this properly?”

“In a ballroom? Or church?”

He took her lips once more, a leisurely claim of reassurance. “I’ll do that too. And soon. But I wanted you to remember and value what had happened that day.”

“Oh, I do recall every moment.”

“That I kissed you?”

“Thoroughly.”

“That I told you I loved you?”

“Unforgettably.”

“And that if I ever had the means, I would return for you and carry you away to happiness….and marriage.”

“Oh, yes, such a declaration a woman never forgets.”

“I renew it all now, my darling.”

It was then Lance felt the barrel of a rifle in the small of his back.

“Ye’ll take yer hands off the lady.”

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Courtship in WIP Wednesday

In this excerpt, taken from my novella Maggie’s Wheelbarrow, Maggie is talking about what happened after her sergeant father died, when the officer said she must marry or go back to England

“The soldiers who didn’t have a wife began to bring me presents and ask me to marry them. All except the one I wanted. Corporal Will Parker watched me from afar, and I waited for him, but he didn’t come. Then our officer told me that I had to choose or I had to leave, for half of the bachelors were squabbling over who had my favor, and the other half were writing poetry or picking flowers, and not a single one of them was remembering we were meant to be fighting the French.”

She chuckled, and the ladies giggled with her. “I was still waiting for Corporal Parker, but my time had run out. So, I picked a bunch of wildflowers and took it to him. I told him I was a good cook, an excellent seamstress, a competent laundress and would make him a faithful wife, but he need not count on me for any poetry, for I was a practical soldier’s daughter.”

Her hands stilled as she remembered his shocked expression and how it changed to dawning delight. Half lost in the dream of that day, she finished her story. “He said he had always wanted to marry me, but he never thought he had a chance. We went to find the chaplain, and were married that very day. And we had more than a year together before we were separated. Happy, even if there was a war on, because we were together. I loved him, and he loved me.”

For more, preorder Merry Belles, due for publication on December 20th.

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“A Duke in Peril” in Love’s Perilous Road

A Duke in Peril by Meara Platt

Lady Florence Swann’s quiet life is upended when she finds a handsome soldier wounded on the side of the road near the country estate where she and her grandfather reside. Captain James Ryder claims to be the Duke of Wellbourne’s emissary and carries a letter concerning a Foreign Office matter. Is he more than he appears, and perhaps the duke himself? Does Florence dare trust her heart to him? 

Meet Florence

Lady Florence Swann has lived a quiet and contented life with her grandfather on his estate, until she finds a wounded soldier on the side of the road and knows she must save him. But she hadn’t expected to be so drawn to this handsome man she knows to be harboring secrets. Does she dare trust him with her heart?

Meet James

James Ryder is on a secret mission to draw out a traitor. He also happens to be the Duke of Wellbourne, but he dares not reveal his true identity to Lady Florence Swann, the ministering angel who saved his life when the traitor and his cohorts attempted to stop him. Once his mission is completed, he fully intends to reveal the truth to Florence and ask her to marry him. But first, he must keep her out of danger while he sets about unmasking the traitor.

An Extract from A Duke in Peril

The man’s eyes flickered open to stare at her.

Her breath hitched, for his eyes were extraordinarily beautiful, a magnificent, dark gray. Quite splendid…and dangerous. “You’re awake.”

He drew her even closer, as though to whisper something in her ear.

But instead of talking, he captured her mouth in a scorching kiss that lasted no more than the count of three.

Dear heaven.

It was enough to mark her soul.

He released her with a groan and sank back onto her lap. “Who are you, lass?”

Lass?

She was a lady and almost the age of three and twenty.

“Lady Florence Swann,” she said stiffly. “Something you might have bothered to find out before you kissed me.”

His chuckle was deep and resonant. “Do not berate me, Florence.”

Ugh.

Why was he being so familiar with her?

It was bad enough he’d kissed her, but to now address her as though they had been lifelong friends?

Sighing, she decided not to chastise him since he was not well and the damage had already been done. “Why did you kiss me, sir?”

“It was most improper, I know. But should I not be permitted to kiss my angel?”

She laughed. “Oh, I hardly think I am that.”

“You are an angel, Florence. Mine,” he insisted, taking hold of her hand as it rested on his chest.

Honestly, if he knew her better, he would not be calling her anyone’s angel.

Much less his.

Nor should he be holding onto her hand.

In truth, it felt awfully nice even though his palm was rough and his knuckles were bruised and swollen.

She meant to protest but never got the chance, for the man had gone limp in her arms again.

Her grandfather threw open the carriage door and stared at the big fellow lying motionless in her embrace.

“Hello, Grandfather.”

“Oh, Florence. What mischief have you got into this time?”

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“One Good Wager Leads to Another” in Love’s Perilous Road

A young widow escaping her controlling father. A former spy in disguise. And a long-ago but never-forgotten kiss.

Thisbe Rose moves into the haunted cottage she inherited from her soldier husband. She’s not afraid of ghosts, nor is she worried about smugglers and highwaymen—but she’s not so sure about the very odd housekeeper who’s already there.

Gervaise Transom returns from years as a spy with no taste for society, and wagers a friend he can spend six months in disguise without getting caught. When Thisbe moves into the cottage, he knows he should leave, to protect her reputation—but he also must stay to keep her safe.

Not only that, he’s sure he met her once years ago…

Meet Thisbe

Widowed Thisbe Rose leaves her controlling father to live in the cottage she inherited. She’s not afraid of smugglers, highwaymen, or ghosts, and is determined to make it on her own. But something strange is going on in the cottage—which has the oddest housekeeper she has ever met.

Meet Gervaise

Gervaise Transom spied for England, the country of his ancestors, against France, the country of his other ancestors, and now he’s torn up inside. He avoids family and society by accepting a wager with his best friend that he can spend six months disguised as a woman without being caught. 

An excerpt from One Good Wager Deserves Another

Thisbe sat up, heart thumping. She knew where the sound had come from—the squeaky board in the room above her bedchamber. Annoyed, she turned up the lamp, slid out of bed, and donned her robe and slippers. She lit a candle and followed Eddie’s ghost to the door.

The gallery was in darkness, save for a faint light from the windows. She crept toward the staircase. No light showed either below or above. She must have been mistaken. Old houses did creak sometimes in the night, so why was Eddie pestering her?

The ghost pointed upward and made a shooing motion, urging her to take the stairs.

She balked. Ghosts didn’t understand human fears, since earthly danger didn’t affect them anymore. Who could possibly be up there? And why? Surely for something underhanded and perhaps dangerous!

Eddie rolled his spectral eyes—an unpleasant sight—and made an even more urgent motion with his hand, mouthing, “Hurry!”

She could ignore him, but he might have a good reason for wishing her to investigate that sound. She couldn’t afford to succumb to anxiety. No hesitation, she told herself. This was her house. She had every right to know what was going on.

She picked up another candlestick—the closest she could find to a weapon—and trod firmly up the stairs. Let the intruder hear her approach and tremble.

Unfortunately, there was no response from above, trembling or otherwise. Nothing but a nod and a grin from Eddie.

Thisbe trod gamely upward. Just as she expected, a flicker of light showed beneath the door of the garret above her bedchamber.

She thrust the door open. “What in heaven’s name is—”

A female figure by the window tossed a brief glance at Thisbe and said, “Hush!” Then she opened her mouth wide and let out a wail that would drown out a banshee.

It was Mrs. Wix, the housekeeper, wrapped in a heavy cloak with a hood obscuring most of her face. She proceeded to open and close the shutters of a lantern several times. Eddie’s ghost stood next to her, looking mighty pleased with himself.

“How dare you order me to hush!” Thisbe said, but in a softer voice. “This is my house, my garret, and you have no business being up here pretending to be a ghost!”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” the woman hissed, a finger to her lips, astonishing Thisbe so much that a furious retort died.

So much for respect for one’s betters. Not that Thisbe really believed that some people were better than others merely because of an accident of birth, but surely an employee should be polite to her employer—especially such an understanding one as herself.

Mrs. Wix continued opening and closing the lantern in a strange, rhythmic pattern. The air movement of the shutters, combined with the breeze from outdoors, wafted the scents of night and dead leaves, and closer by, horse and dirt. What had she been doing in the stable? The woman surely needed a bath.

Suddenly, Thisbe knew what was going on. “You’re signaling to smugglers!” 

“I am not.” Mrs. Wix glanced at her again with a wide, mischievous grin. “I’m signaling to the revenue men.”

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Falling in love in WIP Wednesday

This is an excerpt from “A Bend in the Road”, my story in Love’s Perilous Road, which will be published October 31st. My newsletter story this month will be a little vignette of their meeting and their time in Brussels. In the scene, Justin has been wounded, and Felicity is reading out loud to him.

Justin was seduced anew by the magic of her melodic voice, with the laughing glances Felicity cast at him, inviting him to share her amusement at the florid text. Seduced by dreams he should not have. She had always enchanted him, from the moment he had first seen her on the deck of the yacht Sea Mist off the coast of some remote English village. The sling that had lifted her aboard had been caught by a rogue wave before it lifted beyond the sea’s reach. He was there to welcome aboard some earl’s sister, undoubtedly indignant at the wave’s lèse-majesté and ready to blame the nearest officer—him.

Then Felicity emerged from the sling, a laughing if somewhat drenched fairy, her golden hair sparkling in the sun, but not as much as her blue eyes, and he was her slave from that moment.

Each day in Felicity’s company had enraptured him more. On the sea voyage, he had tried hard to convince himself that she was a social butterfly, all glitter and glamour. But watching her smoothly take charge on the canal boat and the midpoint accommodation house dispelled that impression, and a few days in Brussels taught him she was a consummate hostess, a skilled politician, a stateswoman and—as he worked beside her in the make-shift hospital that received Waterloo casualties, a strong and compassionate woman.

He loved her, and living without her was living with a gaping hole where his heart should be.

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Spotlight on “Forever and Always” in Love’s Perilous Road

Forever and Always in Love’s Perilous Road

By Rue Allyn

Lord Fontus Leigh secretly wed a stranger to protect her, then she left him with no way to find her. Years later, he is desperate to discover her whereabouts. His family has arranged another match for him, but he already has a wife. Unless the marriage was annulled as she promised.

Out of options, Lady Deoiridh Aitken narrowly escaped marriage to a cruel fortune hunter by means of wedding a complete stranger. She swore her husband to secrecy before she left, believing everyone would be safer if no one knew where she was. The plan worked perfectly, until now.

Meet Fontus

Youngest of ten brothers, Lord Fontus Leigh left England as a callow youth suspected of murder. Now an arranged marriage gives him a chance to clear his name and restore his reputation. Even though his prospective bride hates him, Fontus would marry her—if only he were not already wed.

Meet Dee

Lady Deoiridh Aitken grew up in the Bourbon court in exile. When a cruel fortune hunter pursued her, she fled and married a total stranger, promising an annulment once she was safe. But evil continues to hunt her, and she is forced to recognize the saving power of love.

An Excerpt from Forever and Always

She aimed in the direction of her new friend. Halfway there, Frobbin blocked her path.

“What do you want?” She wished she could give him the cut direct.

“I must speak with you privately.”

“I do not care to converse with you, sir. Nothing you can say is of any interest to me.” She used her iciest tone.

He arched a brow. “Not even if it concerns your mother?”

Dee lifted her chin and sniffed. “My mother is asleep with a sick headache and is no concern of yours.”

Hands clasped behind his back, Frobbin rocked back and forth on his heels. “Really? Did you see her?”

“She is asleep, so of course I did not disturb her.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you can explain a mystery for me.”

“I tire of whatever game you play. Get to the point, so I may speak with someone else.” 

“I play no game. However, since you are so certain of your mother’s location, maybe you can explain this note she wanted me to give you.”

Without thinking, Dee took the offered slip of paper, unfolded it, and read.

Daughter, please do not do as this canaille asks. He dares not carry out his threats. Deny him, and I will be fine.”

 Beside her mother’s signature, in very tiny script of an ancient style were the words Neart agus Faireachadh, war cry of the Aitken clan in her father’s native tongue. Strength and Vigilance. Few people from other nations could translate the ancient Scots language, let alone the particular dialect used here. Hence, her father had established it as a way of verifying that any message was truly from family. 

“I am surprised that you permitted my mother to write such a note.”

Barbeau shrugged. “I care only that you understand she is myguest at a location I shall disclose later. You may of course do as she asks and ignore my warning.”

“You made no threat.”

“Immediately after the ladies leave the table, you must excuse yourself.”

“On what grounds?”

“I don’t care what lie you create.” He snarled the words despite the smile he kept on his face. 

“So, you wish to make a liar of me as well as a slave.”

“Take care, Lady Deoiridh. I will soon be your husband. You will not wish to test my patience. Having excused yourself, get a cloak and bonnet. Steal one from the maids if you must, but do not return to your room. My associates among the footmen will tell me should you deviate from my instructions. Leave the house by a side door and make your way to the front gate. Stay within the shadow of the trees lining the drive. No one must know you left or suspect that anyone has gone from the house. I will meet you at the gate and take you to our destination. Bring nothing. I will provide everything you need once we are married.”

Dee laughed. “You honestly believe you can coerce me into marriage.”

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Spotlight on “Love by Moonlight” in Love’s Perilous Road

Love by Moonlight in Love’s Perilous Road

By Elizabeth Ellen Carter

By daylight, he’s a gentleman. By moonlight, justice is served.

 In the quiet village of Normanton in the autumn of 1817, Captain Robin Somerville returns from naval service to find peace elusive. By day, he’s a charming second son living at his brother’s estate. By night, he becomes the enigmatic Captain Moonlight—a highwayman with a code of honor, redressing wrongs in secret. When Rachel Pendleton, the curate’s daughter, begins to suspect his dual identity, her heart must weigh law against love. As romance blossoms amid secrets and schemes, a shared pursuit of justice could cost them everything.

Meet Rachel Pendleton

Daughter of the village curate, Rachel Pendleton is intelligent, empathetic, and deeply principled. She dedicates her days to caring for her community and guarding her heart, yet she harbors feelings for the dashing Robin Somerville that stretch back years. Suspicious of his connection to the noble but illicit Captain Moonlight, Rachel is torn between her admiration for his courage and her fear of scandal. With a sharp mind and quiet strength, she becomes an equal partner in both love and moral reckoning, proving that true bravery often blooms under moonlight.

Meet Captain Robin Somerville

A naval officer recently returned from war, Captain Robin Somerville is charming, clever, and quietly restless. As the second son of a baronet, he has little expectation placed on him, but great ambition to find purpose. Disguised as the mysterious “Captain Moonlight,” he secretly rights the wrongs of their Sussex village by humiliating cheats and helping the downtrodden. Beneath his easy smile lies a man yearning for justice and love. His affections for Rachel Pendleton, the curate’s daughter, challenge his carefully built disguise and force him to consider a life of hearth and heart, rather than duty and danger.

An excerpt from Love by Moonlight

“Have you time for a walk, Miss Pendelton?”

She paused a moment and regarded him intently.

“Have you come to ask me to purloin another key for you? If so, I shall have to decline. These things have a habit to ending up in the wrong hands.”

The corner of Robin’s mouth lifted in a cockeyed smile. “The wrong hands, you say? Heavens, that will never do. What is this good borough coming to if a man cannot come to church without his seeing his unmentionables flapping in the breeze.”

Rachel found her tongue planted in her cheek to prevent a smile. “Indeed.”

She searched his face looking for the truth and found herself taking in the shape of his jaw, the line of his lips and then into his soft blue eyes.

The look he offered her in return was no less intense.

Would he bring her into his confidence?

Rachel held her breath a moment.

His eyes never left hers and she felt the slight brush of his fingers run down her arm to her hand, caressing each finger before threading his fingers through hers.

Part of her mind clamoured danger. She should not entertain thoughts about his good looks or risk her heart to someone whose social standing was far above her own. Yet she did not object as they walked hand-in-hand around the church grounds.

A neatly tended cemetery with weathered headstones attested to the age of the village – named for the very Normans that stepped on the shore not so far from here. Her father personally oversaw the gardens. Pretty little flowers in white, pink and purple neatly tended amongst soft greens of the grass and the tall yew trees that bounded the graveyard.

Lengthening shadows were a testament to the lateness of the day.

That still, small warning voice that had tried to warn her was soon quieted by the conversation which flowed effortlessly between them. She spoke of her visits to families in the parish and Robin shared Penelope’s plans for the summer house party.

“In truth I was glad to get out from under foot,” he concluded.

Rachel squeezed his hand softly. Her heart went out to him. It mustn’t be easy for a man of action to return to a life of genteel civility.

“You miss your time at sea, don’t you?”

She received a shrug in reply.

“Would you go back into the navy?”

There was silence and Rachel wondered whether it would be another question that would remain unanswered. They stopped at a tree at the corner of the churchyard. Some yards away was a two-storey cottage; modest, but well kept. But here they were not overlooked by it.

“No, I think not,” Robin answered. “That part of my life is over.”

 

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A change is as good as a rest in WIP Wednesday

In Maggie’s Wheelbarrow, which is my contribution to Merry Belles, the next Bluestocking Belles Christmas Collection, my heroine takes a job at a house party.

The hope of soon being reunited with Will, or at least reaching his mother, had kept Maggie moving along the winding roads from Portsmouth to the first village of Ashton in the Midlands. When that proved to be the wrong place, she changed her strategy. Winter was coming. Even now, the heat was gone from the long evenings as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. If she had to find lodgings for herself and the children during the winter, then she must make more than the few coins she had picked up on her way north.

Having made the decision between one village and the next, she put it into practice at the first opportunity, asking at both inns and the three major houses if there was any work available.

One of the inns took her on to clean rooms and empty slop pails. For one week, she told them. After that, she said, she must be off once more on her search. With Eva on her back and Billy tagging behind, she managed the heavy work with ease, and a week later set off the next Ashton with several more shillings in her purse and a warmer coat for each child to keep them comfortable in the sometimes-cold wind.

The second Ashton was as disappointing as the first, but Maggie got two night’s work at the inn, and moved on the third. Thus it went through the autumn and on into early winter. When the snow came, she would have to be settled, but meanwhile, she moved from village to village, stopping to work whenever her money ran low, and at every village called Ashton or something similar, asking for the Parker family. All to no avail.

She was between Ashtons in early December when, on the strength of a stint as a maid at yet another inn, she was offered temporary work at the local great house, where they needed extra servants during a house party. At first, she thought she’d have to turn the job down, though the wages were excellent. But another woman overheard her telling the hiring steward about her children.

“I reckon they could stay with Ma,” she said. “She’s looking after me own young uns, while I earn a few coins, so two more wouldn’t matter to her none, and she could do with the pennies.” The woman introduced herself as Frannie, and offered to take Maggie to visit “Ma” immediately.

“If she could put you up at night,” said the steward, “I shall add two shillings a day to the wages, for where I could find you a bed, I do not know. Mind you, you’ll have to be at your post by five in the morning, and will not be home until after the guests have had their dinner.”

Frannie’s mother proved to be a kind woman whom Eva took to straight away, and the other children were twins of Billy’s age, so Maggie went off to work the following morning with a light heart. If she saw out the two weeks of the house party, she would earn the princely sum of eighteen shillings! Four shillings of that would go Frannie’s mother, but fourteen shillings would feed her little family for weeks, if she was careful.

It was hard work, but in some ways, it was also a holiday. No walking for hours with Eva on her back and the wheelbarrow before her. No need to find dry spaces through the day to feed the children or to change a wet clout. And she enjoyed the walks with Frannie in the pre-dawn quiet and the velvet dark of the late evening.

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Spotlight on “Charred Hope” in Love’s Perilous Road

 

Charred Hope, by Caroline Warfield

Major Titus Brannock believes the charred painting that he had tossed into his trunk might be valuable to its owner. With the wars over, he lives with his brother, the earl, and has little direction in his life. He decides to track the woman down and return her miniature.

Tessa Fleming’s late husband lost interest in her soon after the first fires of marriage faded. She followed the army across Spain anyway. Now she lives in a small cottage and supports her son with a widow’s pension. She is determined not to trust another man, certainly not a stranger that knocks on her door.

Will a stranger’s kindness rekindle hope? Perhaps Titus has found his lost purpose in the bargain.

The Hero

Titus Flavius Brannock is the younger son an earl. Like many younger sons, he took a military career, and much prefers Major Brannock as a form of address over “The Honorable Titus Brannock,” the former being rightly earned. With the wars over, he haunts the family home at loose ends and without purpose. He decides impulsively to seek out a war widow he barely remembers and return a damaged miniature that came into his possession during the war.

The Heroine

Tessa Reynolds Fleming grew up in a cold manor in Lincolnshire with stern parents and little joy. Her father, Baron Wolfecliff, disowned her when she ran off to marry a junior officer with nothing to his name. When her husband died, the old man informed her she wasn’t welcome home and could expect nothing. Left with only her widow’s pension, she manages somehow for herself and her son in a small cottage in the South Downs.

An Excerpt from Charred Hope

He knocked again. She ignored him again. The third knock was louder.

When she didn’t respond, a deep voice rumbled through the door, “Mrs. Fleming, I don’t know if you are in there or not, but I mean you no harm.”

So you say… “What do you want?” she demanded through the door.

“I— That is, I knew Lieutenant Fleming in Spain. I brought you something.”

After a moment she lifted the bar, unable to imagine who it could be. She’d heard from none of Rob’s colleagues in the years since she came here.

“Who are you?” she asked through a narrow crack.

“Titus Brannock,” he replied.

The name meant nothing to her, but something in the gentle voice that vibrated through her reassured her. She opened the door a bit wider. “I don’t know you. Again, what do you want?”

The tall stranger, hat in hand, gazed down at her with eyes the rusty brown color of oak leaves in winter. A shaft of sunlight splashed his brown hair with chestnut highlights. She held her breath.

“It is something of yours that came into my possession when you shipped home. It may be a trifle, but I think you might want it.” His voice wrapped around her like a warm quilt, a treasure she hadn’t had since her grandmother’s passing.

Don’t be a ninny Tessa, you know better than to go soft over a man. She held her ground.

“I’ve come a long way to bring it, and I have a long way home,” he went on. She thought he sounded hopeful.

She opened the door to face him, but if he thought she would invite him in, he was mistaken. She stepped out and pulled the door behind her. “I’m not in the habit of entertaining strangers, but you may leave this ‘trifle’ with me and be on your way,” she said.

He studied her long and hard as if she were a mystery to solve. It took strength but she met that piercing gaze. She peered back up at him experiencing a flicker of recognition, one that wouldn’t come into focus.

This one is a soldier for certain. It is in his bearing. In his confident determination. He wasn’t dressed like one; he wasn’t dressed like a poor man either.

At last, he nodded and tapped his hat back on his head. He reached into his fashionably tailored coat and pulled out an object wrapped in dark cloth and held it out to her.

When she took it, their hands touched briefly, and a jolt of feeling went up her arm to lodge somewhere in her center. She yanked her hand away.

At her gesture his lips quirked and he touched his hat. “I’ll leave you in peace. If you have questions for me, I’ll be at the inn in Normanton the rest of today. I’m leaving tomorrow.” He turned and left her murmuring belated thanks.

Tessa took the object to her kitchen table and unwrapped it. What she saw made her throat thicken. Tears, unanticipated and unwelcome, overtook her.

The miniature. The one I had made for Rob. The one he tossed aside so carelessly. As he did me.